


One Too Many Sleepless Nights

by butchniqabi



Category: Sleepless (comic)
Genre: Romance if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-18
Updated: 2018-11-18
Packaged: 2019-08-25 13:56:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16662227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/butchniqabi/pseuds/butchniqabi
Summary: Following Cyrenic in his journey as a Sleepless Knight.





	One Too Many Sleepless Nights

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, i was really interested in that one conversation Cyrenic had about being Sleepless...so I wrote a short fic (drabble??? i STILL dont know fanfic terminology) about what i think it might feel like, based off my own experiences.

The first night was strange.

He was Sleepless now, though the desire to rest still sat behind his eyes. He sat just outside his lady’s room, sword in hand, eyes heavy yet not falling. The crest of the Sleepless laid heavy on his breast, just over his heart.

He was now bound to her, bound to never sleep until death.

It took only a few weeks for the bruise-like bags to appear under his eyes. Three weeks without sleep. Only the beginning of what would be the rest of his life. He followed Lady Pyppenia wherever she went, but as she healed he felt himself grow weaker.

As she bloomed he felt himself slip farther away.

Sometimes his body didn’t feel like his own. He would look down at his hands and though they moved when he commanded, it did not feel like his own self. He pushed down those feelings, focusing on protecting the one he was bound to. It was far easier to focus on her than himself. He, the man who was slowly being unwound.

He learned to ignore his body’s calls to sleep.

The feeling of lead in his blood, the weight of his eyelids, the buzzing in the back of his brain all became simple annoyances. He no longer desired rest as he once did. He was alert, but he was weary. He was awake, but sleep always swam behind his eyes.

Never once did he regret taking the vow which bound them together.

Every step was a reminder of his Sleepless state, every waking moment his body screamed for rest. He did not lament the three years in service to her. She was safe. Her physical scars had healed and her eyes had brightened. It had been long since he was needed for anything other than companionship, yet still he stood by her side.

Her eyes shone like stars.

Then the king died.

Underground, in the depths of the palace’s tomb he stood waiting. He stared into the dark eyes of the dead before him. The soulless darkness stared back as if to say ‘this will be you.’ He did not fear death, not anymore. His Sleepless state had made him unafraid of death; what more did he have to fear when he already dealt with the constant silence and loneliness?

“My lady.”

Her head rose from her father’s stone. Her heart was heavy, he could see it in her eyes. The weariness he saw reflected in his own eyes.

“We must go, my lady. The coronation is about to begin.”


End file.
